Stay or Go?

I love traveling. I love seeing new places, doing new things, and pushing myself beyond my limits. I love airports, people watching, hotel breakfast buffets, watching movies on a big screen by the cruise ship pool, snorkeling, and rum punch made by island locals. If I had my way I would be doing one of those things every single day of the year. But after a few weeks I begin to miss my daughter. And my sewing machine. (Now if I could have my daughter, a kitty, and a sewing machine with me on a long trip life would be just about perfect.)

Then when I get home I want to stay home. I don't want to leave. I don't want to travel. I don't want another pat down at the airport (thanks a lot, knee replacements) and I don't want to be around another person on a tour. I don't want to get sticky from the salt water and I don't want to walk in the heat and humidity or the cold rain. I don't want to do anything but stay in my pajamas all day. (I'll keep the pool time and rum punch.)

How I feel about wanting to travel but then not wanting to travel is somewhat like the picture I took of the foster kitties. One is excited to get moving and the other decided to just hang in the recliner and take a nap.

What to do? Stay home for now.

Now if I could just get some really good rum punch.